


No More Sunsets

by Metallic_Sweet



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Beach Holidays, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Ferdibert Secret Santa (Fire Emblem), Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Holding Hands, M/M, Making Out, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metallic_Sweet/pseuds/Metallic_Sweet
Summary: “I find it curious,” Ferdinand says, late one evening as Hubert is fluffing their pillows and he is taking the warming pan out from under the covers, “that you have so many books about pegasus handling."
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 18
Kudos: 109
Collections: Ferdibert Secret Santa 2020 Edition





	No More Sunsets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amarokster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarokster/gifts).



**i.** _on a lazy night, I dreamed the sun never set_

“I find it curious,” Ferdinand says, late one evening as Hubert is fluffing their pillows and he is taking the warming pan out from under the covers, “that you have so many books about pegasus handling. Did they belong to your mother or another relative?” 

Hubert finishes tucking in Ferdinand’s pillowcase and takes a moment to return it to its place on the right side of the bed. He walks around the foot of the bed to start on his own pillow as Ferdinand opens the pan over the hearth, adding the coals into the crackling fire. He sets the empty pan over the lip of the stand that holds the fire poker and tongs. 

“No, they’re mine,” Hubert says as Ferdinand takes the tongs to push the coals further in and safely away from the mouth of the grate. “Why were you looking at them?”

“I wanted to check some things the Pegasus Breeder Association had included in their bimonthly supplementary expenses,” Ferdinand says, turning back to Hubert as he returns the tongs to the stand. “I remembered you have a couple of gilded books about breed classification because you display them on your main office shelf, but I had not realised you have an entire collection.” 

Hubert does not grimace. He sets his pillow down and moves to take off his housecoat to get ready for bed. Ferdinand follows after him, untying his waist sash and watching Hubert with unhidden curiosity. He doesn’t need to voice his intrigue. It rolls off of him in focused, slightly obtrusive pressing waves. Hubert knows if he looks to Ferdinand now his eyes will be large and bright, brimming with boundless curiosity.

It is an expression that, when they were younger, Hubert found annoying. In the past couple of years, he has come to the humbling realisation that he had also found it attractive, which had initially enhanced his feeling of annoyance. Once he discovered himself buying gifts for Ferdinand to elicit the expression, however, Hubert had to face the fact that he was more than a little enamoured. It is not a look exclusive to Hubert in the slightest, but it is one that he considers to be precious and, both fortunately and unfortunately, highly effective. 

Ferdinand is not unaware of the effect his curious focus has on Hubert. It is why he uses it here, where he may curl close and wrap his arms around Hubert’s waist. He shifts so that his face is directly in Hubert’s line of sight and smiles, enticing and a little bit pleading. 

“What is it?” he wheedles as Hubert tries to frown but fails and feels his face start to flush instead. “Oh! You are embarrassed –”

“Shh,” Hubert says, leaning forward to kiss Ferdinand to shut him up. 

Ferdinand laughs into the kiss. He allows Hubert to maneuver them back towards the bed, their housecoats both abandoned on the floor rather than properly hung on their dressing stand. The mattress and bedding is pleasantly warm from the warming pan, and Hubert draws back to pull up the sheet and duvet as Ferdinand untangles himself to get comfortable on the bed. Hubert has the pleasure of watching Ferdinand’s legs stretch out, nothing left to the imagination in his long johns. 

“Well?” Ferdinand says as Hubert lies back against his pillow. 

Hubert looks up at the ceiling, which is decorated with scenes of songbirds and butterflies among wheat and cornflowers. It is still a novel view. This is the Prime Minister’s quarters, which are larger than all except the Emperor’s own and more suitable for two adults than the modest bedroom Hubert originally kept. This is, however, his bed, which replaced the smaller, if more ornate bed that the former Duke Aegir once slept in. Ferdinand, upon accepting the position of Prime Minister, had been adamant that all of his father’s personal furniture be removed and put to use elsewhere. He, and for the past year Hubert as well, have been gradually filling the apartment with furniture to their own needs and tastes. 

Hubert received their current bed when he turned eighteen, and it is the oldest piece in their shared bedroom. It is the only gift he kept from his father aside from the books on poisons that he keeps locked in the Minister of the Imperial Household office. It was purchased because Hubert tossed and turned in his sleep, and he too often found himself on the floor in the morning with a single. Since he and Ferdinand began sleeping together, Hubert’s bed was their preference because of its size. Sleeping regularly with another warm body has also had the added benefit of calming Hubert’s night terrors and Ferdinand’s insomnia. Hubert not so secretly gets a thrill that the single thoughtful gift from his father is now essentially his marriage bed with Ferdinand von Aegir. 

The mattress shifts as Ferdinand rolls over to lie half over Hubert’s left arm and against his chest. He reaches up and traces the curve of Hubert’s nose. He doesn’t pinch it as he and Dorothea sometimes do when they think Hubert is being unreasonably difficult, but he grins and uses the pad of his forefinger to wiggle the end. Hubert huffs because it is a strange and somewhat ticklish sensation. Ferdinand smiles, warm and mild and very relaxed. It is only in moments like this, secret and safe between them, when his smile fully reaches his eyes. 

“Tell me.” 

Hubert moves his chin to press a kiss to the palm of Ferdinand’s hand. It brings a naughty sparkle to Ferdinand’s eyes, turning them to an orange akin to summer tangerines. 

“Promise not to laugh.” 

Ferdinand’s expression softens. He cups his hand upon Hubert’s jaw, his thumb rubbing against his bottom lip. 

“I promise,” he says, and Ferdinand always keeps his word. 

Hubert breathes in. Out. 

“I have harboured a secret dream of becoming a Pegasus Knight since I first saw them practicing maneuvers.” 

“Oh?” Ferdinand says, and he keeps his promise and does not even give away a hint of laughter or unkind amusement; rather, his expression focuses upon Hubert with greater and sincere interest. “How old were you?”

“I was probably four or five,” Hubert says, the words coming easier now that he is reassured he will not be mocked for such an illogical desire. “It was just after my father brought my mother and I to live here rather than with her family in Boramas.” 

“That’s the same age when I first saw Manuela at the opera,” Ferdinand says, thoughtful and attentive. “You know I began to learn the sword to imitate her performance, right? I think it is a very impressionable age, and those dreams are very important because they stick with us.” 

Hubert nods. He lifts his right arm to thread his fingers through Ferdinand’s hair, earning a soft hum and sigh of contentment. Hubert’s fingertips are cool but not unpleasant when they brush against Ferdinand’s skin. His nails are blunt and have no sharp edges. Hubert has always had to take care of his hands. Magic and his experiments require fine dexterity, and it has behooved him in his role as Edelgard’s right hand to be able to help her dress and do her hair in the fine and delicate fabrics and accessories of her station. Despite the damage they have sustained both from his lance and the magic, he takes care to keep his skin supple, joints strong, and nails healthy and shapely. 

He also is careful to keep them covered except when he touches Edelgard or Ferdinand. They both enjoy his hands, although differently, and he is aware that Ferdinand has some jealousy regarding sharing him with more than their Emperor. The jealousy is flattering, and Hubert finds the flush that works its way up Ferdinand’s neck to his ears as it bubbles up unbidden within himself to be incredibly cute. It reminds Hubert, much like Ferdinand’s rare warm smiles, of the moments in their academy days when they thought they hated each other. It is only with time that Hubert has realised much of his dislike for Ferdinand then was mixed with unwitting attraction. 

Now, there is very little left of that Ferdinand. He is still himself, and he still carries the relentless optimism he has always possessed with all his might. But he has tempered himself, much like he does with the weapons and armour he collects and maintains, and the brash energy of Ferdinand at eighteen has become the constantly burning determination of the general and Prime Minister Hubert has grown not only to deeply love but wholly trust. Ferdinand at twenty-seven has grown in so many ways that Hubert could spend his entire life watching and learning. 

Hubert is, after all, a scientist at heart. 

“Hmm,” Ferdinand hums, his eyes half-lidded as he watches Hubert’s face. “You are sweet on me tonight.” 

“Am I not sweet on you every night,” Hubert murmurs, tucking the last of Ferdinand’s unbound hair out of his face and back behind his head. 

“And you are in a very good mood,” Ferdinand says before yawning widely while still attempting to speak with: “You must really like pegasi.” 

Hubert snorts. Ferdinand finishes yawning, breathing out long and deep as he reaches up to rub the instinctive tears from his eyes. It is, again, incredibly cute. 

“You should go to sleep,” Hubert says, watching the half-lidded way Ferdinand’s eyes droop.

“You do not deny it,” Ferdinand mumbles before he lets his eyes slide closed, his jaw already going slightly slack. “Good night.” 

Hubert, his fingers full of Ferdinand’s hair, smiles. 

“Good night.” 

**ii.** _in the evening light, you approached me as we met_

Since the defeat of Those Who Slither in the Dark, life has been busier and, in Hubert’s private opinion, more difficult. 

Hubert understands, perhaps a little better than most, that he, Ferdinand, and Edelgard went to their wars too young. They all went to war for their own reasons and in their own way, and, unlike their fellow Black Eagles and Byleth, they went to war less for themselves but for others. Hubert went to war for Edelgard when he tried to chase her down over the former Adrestrian-Faerghus border. Edelgard went to war before that, understanding better that her mother had been used as a bargaining chip in schemes bigger and greater than a small child. Hubert was late to meet her in their war, and he will spend the rest of his life making up for that oversight, even though Edelgard wants nothing more than for him to forgive himself. She does not command that of him, though, but that is a command Hubert could never follow, and they are not unkind to each other when they do not have to be. 

Ferdinand, unbeknownst to Hubert and Edelgard, went to war as he watched his father sink deeper and deeper into greed. Compared to them, Ferdinand’s war had fits and starts because his father was not cruel to him, and he had shown his son love and encouragement in his younger days. Ferdinand is the type of person who craves acknowledgement and praise, especially from those who have given him encouragement and warmth in the past. It was much more difficult for him to let go because he could never fully reconcile the loving father of his youth with the greedy Prime Minister who he had to punish. For Edelgard, she never had to blame her father for his failings because she understood too well the circumstances. Hubert never knew warmth from his father, rather feeling that he was a necessary burden to that man, and it made everything afterward so much easier. 

Edelgard and Hubert’s war has and will always be against their enemies. Ferdinand’s war is just as much against their enemies as it is against himself. 

Without Those Who Slither in the Dark to focus their energies, Hubert finds himself often feeling at odds and ends. There is so much work to do during the day in his position of Minister of the Imperial Household, especially since he has begun expanding his magical and scientific research to examine how his knowledge of Dark Magic and poisons could be used for more than combat and espionage. He coordinates regularly with Manuela and somewhat reluctantly with Hanneman as well as with Annette in Fhirdiad where the School of Sorcery has recently been re-founded. He is glad to be able to leave Lorenz, who as the new Count Gloucester helped finance the reopening of the School, to Ferdinand to deal with over their bimonthly tea conversations. 

In his capacity as Prime Minister, Ferdinand travels a lot. Edelgard is not able to travel often from Enbarr as she holds the greatest authority over the often rancorous former Adrestian and southern Faerghus nobility. This contingent prefers to travel and even live in Enbarr, and it is important that Edelgard be available to them to settle disputes as well as bring them to heel. Ferdinand gets on poorly with most of these people because they remind him of his father and all the things he thinks ignoble, and his talents shine when dealing with the remaining devouts in northern Faerghus and generally in Leicester, where the gregarious aspects of his attitude are considered friendly and approachable. His solid friendship with Marianne, newly Margrave Edmund, has also opened up trade routes in the reserved Leicester north. 

This means, however, that the times when Hubert and Ferdinand have to be romantic for more than the last hour or two of the day are far and few between. They ironically had more regular time together before Those Who Slither in the Dark were defeated because Ferdinand was nearly always at Hubert’s side in battle. Edelgard could forge ahead and up the middle on her own, often with Petra or Bernadetta beside her to provide ranged coverage. Hubert needed Ferdinand’s physical skills and Ferdinand Hubert’s magical coverage. Together, they never had to worry about their backs. 

But, now, even Hubert will admit their lack of personal time together is causing their relationship to suffer. Lorenz has taken to dropping increasingly loaded comments when Hubert has to deal with him, which annoys Hubert and does less to make him feel inadequate or guilty than desiring to wring Lorenz’s neck. It’s Marianne’s silent but very present concern, never voiced but so very clearly felt, that makes Hubert feel actual and rare shame. There were cruel rumours about her and Ferdinand’s closeness in the years immediately following the war before Hubert had felt comfortable with Ferdinand taking their courtship public. Marianne had to weather unkind gossip before and directly after that. 

There are many aside from Lorenz who think Ferdinand could do better than Hubert, who is at best respected but only marginally tolerated in social spaces. Ferdinand alway laughs off such implications or smiles away overtures from others who seek to lure him away, but Hubert knows well how it bothers him. 

“I do not know how to make them understand you have the best qualities in private,” he says bluntly to Hubert. 

“I find their attitudes discouraging,” he admits only when people are far too insistent. 

“He cannot allow us to rescue him,” Bernadetta tells Hubert as they both are forced to watch Ferdinand deflecting a persistent wealthy merchant at a charity opera gala. “It will only make rumours turn cruel again.” 

Hubert is not entirely sure how to solve these things. The only thing that would put a stop to all of this is if he and Ferdinand get married in a large, public ceremony, which is something neither of them desire. Such an event would be against all that Hubert is and Ferdinand would find such undivided attention distressing. Hubert knows that Ferdinand is at his happiest when he and Hubert are alone, and he trusts that they are not being watched or listened to by spies or even their friends. It is something that Hubert, occasionally with some guilt, agrees. They are both people who struggle to open up because they spent too long at war. 

All of this together is why Hubert is able to justify to himself and then to Ferdinand taking a vacation together in the recently rejuvenated Port of Oche. Edelgard had put special effort into the city and port, motivated by her sympathy for what had been done to Monica and the suffering the now defunct barony had gone through. The dysfunction and grief of the former noble family had caused guilds to withdraw their presence from the area and the economy of the territory to go into recession. It has only been with long hours of meetings with merchant and shipbuilding guilds that the economy could begin to slowly recover with the aid of some tourism. 

“I’ve never been to Oche,” Ferdinand says with no little shock when Hubert suggests that they spend their next long weekend together in a bay-side vacation cottage. “Is the weather humid? You know I am not keen on that.”

Hubert shakes his head, pouring Ferdinand another cup of tea. While Edelgard was hard at work there, Ferdinand was occupied with Lysithea and Mercedes in Hyrm. Hubert, in the mid-stages of the Oche restoration, had spent several weeks there assessing what damage could be fixed with magic, so he has a good idea of the weather patterns this time of the year. 

“The weather is extremely mild,” he reassures Ferdinand before sitting down to his own half-finished coffee. “There is fog off the water most mornings, but it clears up quickly in the summer light.”

“Oh,” Ferdinand says, clearly still attempting to recover. “I do think this is a marvelous idea. I would like to have some good time with you, and I very much like the sea.”

Hubert sips his coffee and does not point out that it is obvious how much Ferdinand likes the sea because he always speaks glowingly of the fun times he had swimming in Aegir Bay. Doubtlessly, his father did not approve of that activity, but someone must have allowed Ferdinand the freedom, and Ferdinand is very good at not doing what his father approved of.

“Yes,” Ferdinand says, and he reaches across the table with his small, almost shy smile to clasp Hubert’s hand in his. “I would love very much to take a vacation with you. It is so sweet of you to think of what will please me like this.”

Hubert smiles back before he can stop himself. He squeezes Ferdinand’s hand. 

“That pleases me very much to hear,” Hubert says because it does. 

Near to their entwined fingers, their coffee and teapots are very warm. 

**iii.** _for the very first time, in our world without sunset_

The cottage is –

It makes Ferdinand laugh as they draw up the road and realise what it is. There is a gate with a heart hanging on it, and the short pathway within the yard is bordered by red and pink rose bushes. The cottage itself has climbing vines, although they’re not currently in bloom. Ferdinand, dismounting from the carriage, opens the gate with a gleeful little giggle. 

“Hubert, this is quite forward,” he teases as Hubert tries not to turn too red as he pays the grinning driver. “Really, if you wanted to show me romance –”

“Ferdinand,” Hubert gets out, so scandalised he cannot even be mad as both Ferdinand and the driver laugh at him. 

The house itself is simple. There is a small entranceway that connects into a modest kitchen and dining area, large enough to be comfortable for two. The dining area connects to the bedroom, which is by far the largest room in the cottage. There is a generous and slightly too soft bed in the well-equipped room, and the eastern wall has glass-paned doors that face out onto a porch and the beach. Curtains are set up on each side of the doors to be drawn if need be.

“Really lovely,” Ferdinand comments as he stands on the porch, taking in the view for a long moment before he gasps and motions urgently for Hubert to leave the case of their clothes he had begun unpacking. “Oh! I can see some pegasi! I believe Oche is known for their dappled breeds. Come look, Hubert.” 

Hubert sets down a set of folded underwear to join Ferdinand on the porch. There is a little table and wooden chairs set out here, likely to have drinks and light food while watching the sunrise or sunset. Hubert makes no secret of how he admires how the sunlight highlights the strands of red in Ferdinand’s hair before he steps forward into the light, following Ferdinand’s pointing finger to the north and upwards. 

“Oh,” he hears himself breathe.

Very close to them but high enough in the sky their vantage point is hidden, pegasi in many shades of brown flit about with young riders on their backs. These are not military exercises, which all follow a beat and have an air of seriousness to even untrained eyes. Rather, it looks like this is an intermediate civilian riding class, and the instructor hovers just above the eight young riders who are making a great deal of noise as they have fun swooping and looping in the afternoon sunlight. Hubert’s chest tightens, partially in envy but also in a strange and wonderful joy. 

He feels no fear, and the cheerful amusement of the children makes him feel a deep sense of peace. 

Ferdinand wraps his arms around Hubert’s waist. He rests his chin on Hubert’s shoulder, his breath huffing faintly out on a contented sigh. This close, Hubert can feel that he is wearing thin mail beneath his traveling clothes. 

“Thank you,” Ferdinand whispers as Hubert shifts so that he can hold him by his shoulders; this close, Hubert can see how his smile not only reaches his eyes but lights them with sincere happiness. “I really do love this.”

Hubert dips his head. Ferdinand meets him immediately. The kiss is deep and more passionate than they usually start with, especially when not absconded in the safety of their bedroom. Hubert tightens his hold on Ferdinand’s shoulders as he feels Ferdinand’s hands drifting lower. 

“A lover’s getaway,” Ferdinand whispers against Hubert’s parted lips, his right hand squeezing the round of Hubert’s left asscheek without any subtlety. “You are very transparent today, Spymaster.” 

Hubert takes a step backwards. Ferdinand squeezes him again, a little harder, but follows easily. They return through the door, not bothering to close them or trying to draw the curtains. Hubert steps back swift enough that he is able to change his hold on Ferdinand’s shoulders to tug his cravat from his traveling vest. Ferdinand releases Hubert’s ass to go for his belt. 

“Cheeky,” Hubert says as Ferdinand’s entire face lights up with glee as they begin to undress each other. “Coming onto me when I was having an emotional revelation.” 

“You looked too sweet,” Ferdinand says, his smirk cat-like in its unfettered glee, “and you know how well I enjoy treats.” 

Hubert leans down to cover those teasing lips with a rough kiss before Ferdinand can say more ridiculous things. Ferdinand laughs into Hubert’s mouth before kissing back, his fingers still at work. They are strong and sure because he has done this many times before with all of the different clothes Hubert wears. Traveling trousers are by far the easiest in comparison to Hubert’s usual court, military, or mage robes. Ferdinand hums, eagerly palming his prize. 

In response, Hubert lifts his right hand to curl in Ferdinand’s hair at the base of his skull. He tugs, light but firm, and pulls back from the kiss. They both breathe hard; Hubert can see how well Ferdinand follows his thoughts. 

“We have time,” Hubert says even so. 

“Yes,” Ferdinand says, and he releases his hold on Hubert to wrap his arms around his waist and pull him close. “Yes.”

Hubert leans his cheek against Ferdinand’s head. His hair smells of the rose oil that Hubert combed through it in the early morning before they left Enbarr. It is very rare that Ferdinand travels in a carriage because he loves best when he can feel the air and elements upon his skin. The sun exposure, even with the lotion that Hubert chases him with, will give him wrinkles rather than freckles as they get older, but Hubert likes to believe that they will suit an older Ferdinand. Hubert himself already has a few wrinkles, although less harsh than he would have expected when he was younger. 

Against his neck and shoulder, Ferdinand breathes in. Out. His muscles ripple on a small, unsuppressed laugh. 

“You _are_ emotional,” he purrs, turning his face to press a kiss to the curve of Hubert’s jaw. 

“I am,” Hubert says because it is pointless to pretend otherwise at this point. 

“Mhm,” Ferdinand sighs, resting his cheek against Hubert’s shoulder. 

They stand like this for a long time. Hubert’s eyes, half-open, take in the dense, up-close view of Ferdinand’s hair. There are very few split ends these days, thanks to Ferdinand making a conscious effort to look after himself and Hubert’s enjoyment of caring for his hair. Hubert cannot help but feel a great warmth in his chest, pride and attraction both. 

Ferdinand hums, snuggling flush against Hubert. He has always loved these moments when Hubert is relaxed enough simply to hold and be held. He flourishes through this seemingly small but the great departure from the remote world they knew before. The heat of Ferdinand’s body seeps into Hubert and washes away all his lingering doubts. He can feel how Ferdinand’s breathing goes deep and even, the tiny bits of tension easing out of his muscles. They feel safe. 

They are on the ground. Beneath the sky, beside the sea: 

Hubert holds all that he loves.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to connect with me on Twitter [@Metallic_Sweet](https://twitter.com/Metallic_Sweet/)!


End file.
